My recently divorced friend Mona and I had lunch the other day at a posh new restaurant that had just opened next to the theatre. The menu items were all named after famous folks like Tim Curried Chicken and Jane Mansfried Pickles. "I could have been on this menu," she said referring to her days in the theatre. Mona was just becoming someone when she met and fell in love with her recent ex, Roger, at an opening night party for her then smash hit version of Rocky Horror. I could have told her the marriage was going to be a rocky horror, but I didn't.
Mona was a true talent -- still is for that matter. She can sing, dance, act and looks excellent for someone still holding on to twenty-nine. She sighed as she ordered a Fiona Apple Salad. I told her not to worry about being on the menu; she was already on a board game, -- Mona-poly. She wasn't as amused as I hoped she'd be. It appeared as though Mona had made her bed and was prepared to lie in it. "If only I hadn't gotten hitched," she said. But she had. She had been temporarily blinded by love and made a nice seven year run of it before the final curtain fell.
Sometimes love gets in the way of making rational decisions. Is it worth losing everything for a chance at love, or is true love, the kind that lives happily ever after, reserved only for movies? Is there hope for those of us stuck in real life, or are we just acting as though we believe? And if true love does exist, will we fine it before final curtain call?
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